


Every Part Aflame

by RedBerrie



Series: The Hamil-ABO 'Verse [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alpha!TJeffs, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Alexander
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedBerrie/pseuds/RedBerrie
Summary: Thomas was making Hamilton take off work. Thomas had somehow found a way to coerce or bully Alexander “I'll Relax When I'm Dead” Hamilton into taking off work. George barked out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. “If I had known Thomas could make you see sense, I would have set you two up years ago,” he joked jovially.Alex is in heat, his first since bonding with Thomas. Still, the solution should be simple enough, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a sequel to "[That Dreamlike Candlelight](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9059986/)". You **DO** need to have read that fic before reading this one, at least to understand everything that's going on.
> 
> Just in case someone didn't read all the tags, this fic does take place in an A/B/O setting.

It was mid-morning on a Thursday when the sensation hit.

In his office in the Treasury Building, Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton didn't pay it any mind. A little queasiness was nothing to get excited about; after all, he was just sitting at his desk. Swallow a capful of Pepto and he'd be good to go.

But then the shakes hit, and the clammy skin, and about the time Alex felt his temperature spike into a low grade fever, he knew.

His heat wasn't scheduled to hit until next week; then, again, sometimes it happened this way. Fortunately, he was prepared. From his desk drawer, hidden beneath paperclips and a packet of Uniball ballpoints, he fished out a box and studied the front with contempt. “Omega Estrus Suppressants” the box proclaimed proudly. “for males” it whispered in smaller print below. As if the powder blue design and super-kawaii blueberry motif didn't give that away (females got strawberries). The blueberries gazed up at him with huge black, shiny eyes, smiling with red splotches where their cheeks should be, and stylized green leaves shooting from behind them. They belonged on the front of a grade-schooler's pencil box, not a container for medicine intended for such an adult purpose. He pulled the blister pack out and popped out three pills, then crushed the candy-flavored tablets between his teeth with a face. He hated blueberries.

Normally, that would be it. He'd wait it out while the suppressants kicked in, maybe go rub one out in the bathrooms downstairs if he needed the release. Then he'd down enough coffee to kill a horse, and get back to work.

Normally, however, he wasn't bonded to Thomas Jefferson. Thomas, to whom he had promised that he would take off for his heats. Thomas, to whom he would have to answer if he broke that promise.

Solutions flitted through his brain – tell Thomas that he had a huge project that had just come up, or that he had been exposed to a deadly virus and was in quarantine, or that his brother had called from Nevis and he was flying down for a family emergency, then book a hotel room for a week – but the fact was that it would be far too easy for Thomas to call Washington, or the CDC, or his brother, and then his lie would be exposed. Besides, Thomas would get suspicious when his heat didn't hit next week.

Besides that, if he took off as requested, Thomas would knot him. Probably several times. Probably several times _today_.

After taking a moment to chew a fourth tablet, Alex texted Samuel that he needed to be picked up early, as even he knew better than to take the Metro while in heat. Then he packed up his things and went to see Washington.

* * *

“Sir?” a familiar voice interrupted George, then was followed by the most perfunctory of knocks. George made a mental note to talk to his Chief of Staff again about letting anyone interrupt him uninvited, before letting go of that fantasy with a sigh. Some battles just couldn't be won.

“Hamilton; come in,” he said as he saved his document on his laptop before looking up.

What he saw there, however, had him concerned. A sheen of sweat covered the omega's pale face, his eyes were glossy and darted around the room distractedly, and there was a tremor to his hands. “You don't look too good, Son.”

The words seemed to pass right over Hamilton's head. The younger man swallowed dry, then wet his cracked lips before speaking. “Sir, I'm here to inform you that I'm taking some time off.”

Now George was _very_ concerned. He couldn't remember the last time the omega had taken so much as an extended lunch, without having to be strong-armed into it. He happened to know that Human Resources had it out with him every year about unused vacation days. For Hamilton to _voluntarily_ take a day off, something must be very wrong.

Then Hamilton took another step into the room, and his scent kicked George in the teeth. The man smelled positively  _delicious_ . “Since when do you take off for your heats, Hamilton?” he asked, trying to regain control of himself. The man was recently bonded, after all, to a man George considered a friend.

“Since Thomas is making me,” Hamilton admitted with absolutely no finesse.

Thomas was making Hamilton take off work. Thomas had somehow found a way to coerce or bully Alexander “I'll Relax When I'm Dead” Hamilton into taking off work. George barked out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. “If I had known Thomas could make you see sense, I would have set you two up years ago,” he joked jovially. Then Hamilton shifted, and the scent of heat hit George again, and he suddenly found himself fantasizing about what the omega would look like bent bare-assed over his desk. “Or taken you as my own pet.”

Hamilton must have been fantasizing about a similar scenario, if the way he suddenly whined had anything to do with it. George pretended not to notice the way the omega's trousers tightened. “That's great, sir, and we can talk about that later,” he just managed to bite out, “but right now, not so much.”

Frankly, George wasn't sure how the man was even coherent at this point. The thought of Hamilton barely able to string a few words together to form a sentence made George chuckle under his breath. “Go, then,” he dismissed the omega. “I don't want to see you until the Monday after next.”

A glimmer of the normal Hamilton shone through in the way he sputtered in outrage at the order. “Sir, that's ten days!” he insisted. “I barely need a week!”

“And this is your first heat with an Alpha,” George reminded him in a voice that invited no argument. “Take the time.” 

The omega was going to argue the point further, he could tell, before a wave of something passed through the man's body with a shudder. Another wave of scent hit George, and George once again had to restrain himself from offering to take the edge off the young man's symptoms. Thomas would never know, after all. Perhaps Hamilton felt the same way, because without another word, the man turned and fled. “See you then, bye,” he threw over his shoulder on the way out.

George watched him go, then sunk back into his desk with a sigh. There was absolutely no way he was go ing to get any work done in here with the scent of heat lingering in the air. With another sigh, he paged his secretary. “Logan, please have the Oval Office descented as soon as possible,” he said over the intercom as he gathered his things. Then considered a moment. “And get me Gilbert on the phone,” he added.

If he couldn't have one omega bent bare-assed over a desk, he'd gladly settle for another.

* * *

By the time Alex gets into the car behind Samuel, he can barely walk straight. The omega sinks into the seat with a sigh, not bothering with a seat belt.

“Mr. Secretary, are you okay?” Samuel asks from the front seat.

Alex considers Samuel's question for a moment, then starts considering Samuel. The man is acceptably attractive, and presumably in possession of a functioning dick. As a beta, it won't knot; but, hey, none of us are perfect.

Samuel must see the direction his thoughts are taking written on his face, because the man raises an eyebrow in … surprise? disgust? consideration? Alex can't bother to figure it out right now.

“What I'm going to do,” Samuel says, and he says it slowly like he's talking to a child. Alex would be offended at the condescension, if he wasn't too busy trying to focus. “What I'm going to do, is put up this divider, and turn on my music. There's a tube of lotion and a box of tissues on the seat beside you, and the windows are tinted. What you do with all of this is your business.”

Alex hears the man talking, and he hears the little  _wurrrrr_ of the divider rising, but he doesn't care. His pants are unbuckled and his dick is out almost before Beta finishes talking.

The lotion isn't necessary; he dips his fingers into his own hole and is suddenly moaning at how good that small breach feels. From the front seat, he hears Beta turn on something loud and with a decent beat. It takes a moment for the rhythm to penetrate his fog of arousal, and then he barks a laugh at the fact that he's jerking off to Alpha Bitch's hit from the 80s, “Need That Alpha Love”.

But all that is secondary. What's important is the way his fingers are ghosting over his own dick, caressing the veins in his shaft and circling the head to rub at the slit. He turns on the seat warmers, high, and if he closes his eyes he can almost pretend like it's someone else behind him that's reaching around to fondle his stones, someone else palming his shaft, someone else beginning to stroke him hard. He remembers all the times that Thomas sat with him in the car, touching him just like this, just to see him squirm in pleasure. He remembers the first time in happened, right after they had had breakfast at that diner. Thomas hadn't even asked, just grabbed him and took his dick in hand and stroked him off to completion, taking possession of the omega and providing for his needs at the same time. He had bitten him behind the ear, right by his scent gland, and commanded him to  _come_ …

Alex almost doesn't get a tissue out in time. He scrambles to pull one out of the box as his body obeys the remembered command, even a month later. He just manages to succeed, however, and sags back into the seat as his body empties itself into the tissue.

He sits there for a minute, panting, and feeling like weeping at the unfairness of a world that wouldn't produce his Alpha right now.

* * *

Senator Thomas Jefferson received the notification that his omega had gone into an early heat from three sources almost simultaneously – first Alex's text dropped, explaining the situation; then Washington texted him, making sure that he knew; then Samuel texted him, informing him that he might want to get home as soon as he's able if he doesn't want his mate to start wandering the streets in search of a knot.

That image caused him to actually snarl, startling his poor interns half to death. He calmed himself, stopped his scent glands from broadcasting a general death threat to everyone in the area, explained to his staff that he needed to leave, and was out the door within five minutes.

He was at the townhouse they shared not fifteen minutes after that. Thomas barely waited until the car had stopped before vaulting out, running through the door, taking the stairs two and three at a time, throwing open the bedroom door …

Thomas didn't know that much about heats, besides what he had grown up seeing on TV and in movies, and the general sex ed provided to all children. While waiting for Samuel to get him home, he spent the time doing a general search on his phone, only to find a mixture of often-contradictory information and neither the time nor the experience to weed the facts from the myths. However, one thing that a lifetime of Hollywood romances had taught him was that an omega in heat was a rampaging sex monster, demanding that their Alpha fuck them repeatedly and often.

Alex looked up from where he lay on the bed, a sleepy smile on his face. “Alpha,” he cooed, opening his arms to beckon Thomas to himself. Instead of the state of undress that Thomas had expected, Alex was clothed in his comfiest pair of pyjamas.

Well, then. Never let it be said that he wasn't willing to do whatever his omega needed. He shed his tie and jacket, toed off his shoes and socks, and slipped out of his trousers and undershirt before obediently going over to cuddle with his sleepily affectionate omega.

Alex happily nuzzled his way into Thomas' arms, placing his head on the Alpha's shoulder. Thomas turned to the television set, to find it turned to a generic daytime talk show. “Alex, Darling?” he asked, keeping his tone light.

“Mmmm?” Alex responded sleepily.

“Why are you falling asleep in the middle of the day?” And why wasn't he demanding that Thomas knot him?

“Supp'essants make me sleepy,” the omega explained.

That was an understatement. Didn't Alex used to work like this? “How did you get anything done when you worked through your heats?”

“Lots and lots of coffee,” Alex replied with a yawn.

It figured. When given a choice between slow but healthy and fast but risky, Alex had always chosen convenience. Keeping an eye on his daily caffeine intake, his caloric needs, and how long he slept, had been a major part of their bonded life for Thomas.

“No coffee now, though, right?” Thomas asked, worried.

“No,” Alex slurred. “ 's nice.”

And the omega nuzzled his way farther into Thomas' arms and promptly fell asleep.

Well, then. If sleep was what Alex's body needed, Thomas would make sure he got it. He watched the talk show for awhile before growing bored with the constant chatter. Unfortunately, neither the remote nor his phone could be reached without disturbing the omega sleeping on his shoulder. The box of suppressants, however, was laying right beside Alex's leg. Thomas scooped it up and started to study the label, just for something to do.

Cute little cartoon fruits – Thomas was pretty sure they were blueberries – smiled up at him from the packaging. Thomas couldn't help but approve of the sweet, non-threatening motif. Omegas in heat needed to be nurtured and coddled. He flipped the box over and started to read the Warnings and Directions to pass the time.

He didn't even notice that he had dozed off himself until a beeping noise startled him awake. Alex turned off the alarm on his phone, fiddled with it a moment, then grabbed the box of suppressants where it had fallen from Thomas' grip. He then proceeded to pop two pills out of the packaging.

Thomas gently put his hand over Alex's palm, getting his attention. “Are you taking both of those pills?” he asked, making sure that his voice was calm and non-confrontational.

“Mmm-hmm,” the still-sleepy Alex replied.

“Alex, Babe,” Thomas tried not to allow his alarm to show in his voice, “you know you're only supposed to take _one_ tablet ever four hours, right?” He had read that box back and front several times.

“Nah, it's good,” the omega insisted. “Ev'rybody takes two.”

After the heat was finished, Thomas would research that statement to find that it was, in fact, true – most omegas doubled the dosage. The active ingredient in heat suppressants, phrosafin, was purposefully prescribed in lower dosages than was completely effective. Alphan FDA officials had determined the perfect dosage to keep their omegan lovers needy and begging for their knots while still reducing the chances of pregnancy to near zero. Alphan lobbyists had made sure that this ego-stroking dosage was the recommended one. Omegan activists, knowing exactly what their Alpha counterparts were up to but knowing that fighting it head on was a losing battle, had responded by lobbying to have the drug available over the counter – arguing that, after all, omegas start their estrus cycle at the end of puberty, which for some individuals meant that they'd start their first heat as early as 13 years old, when they could hardly expect to possess the government-issued ID card needed to buy a restricted drug. When that was successfully accomplished, the omegan community then proceeded to simply double the recommended dosage – an amount that not only gave the maximum effects of the drug, but also was known to be safe.

Alex, despite his small size, tended to take an even higher dosage than he probably should. The extreme fatigue was a sign that he was approaching unsafe levels of phrosafin in his bloodstream. But as much as he toed the line, he was careful never to go over.

All this was information Thomas would learn later. At the time, all he knew was that his mate, who had a history of less-than-stellar decision-making when it came to prioritizing his health, was taking double the amount that the FDA recommended of a fairly powerful drug, and had probably been doing so all day.

“Alex, Babe,” Thomas began softly, “can you do me a favor? Can you just take the recommended dose? For me? I worry about you, Sugar.”

Alex frowned. “I've been taking this much all my life,” he protested.

Thomas successfully hid his shudder. “I understand,” he responded, “but it's not safe. For me? Please?”

Had Alex been running at full capacity, Thomas would have had a fight on his hands. As it was, the omega was too sleepy to resist for too long. “ 'kay,” he agreed, albeit hesitantly. Placing one pill on the nightstand for later, he barely chewed the other before washing it down with a swig from his water bottle.

Having accomplished what he had woken up to do, Alex then snuggled back under Thomas' arm, and went back to sleep.

And that was that. At least, that's what Thomas thought. _This heat thing isn't so hard,_ he congratulated himself before drifting off as well.

* * *

When Thomas woke up, what feels like several hours later, it's quite different.

The first thing that hit him, even before he opened his eyes, was the smell. The familiar scents of sex and arousal, both Alex's and his own, swirl together and mix with something else, that made him quite sure that he needed to wake up, now.

The next thing he noticed was that he was already hard. His body must have responded to the pheromones in the air while he was still unconscious. Pheromones coming from the delightfully nude, nubile little omega currently trying to burrow his way under Thomas' skin.

Which brought him to Alex himself. Somehow, the omega had gotten undressed without rousing Thomas, and was currently making desperate little mewing noises while trying frantically to rub his entire body against Thomas'.

He had boxers on when he went to sleep, but was now just as nude as Alex. Thomas added that to the list of things Alex managed to accomplish without rousing him. He wondered whether Alex was just that careful, or whether Thomas was just that sound of a sleeper.

Wondered, that is, until Alex noticed that his mate was awake. The mews changed to chitters. “Alpha!” Alex gasped, and immediately sunk into the most beautifully executed and most enticing full submissive display that Thomas had ever seen – head thrown all the way back to completely expose the throat, shoulders back, arms tucked behind the head, hips thrust forward, knees bent, ankles crossed, and legs spread completely open. Just to complete the display, the little shit begun pressing his scent glands, releasing the most alluring smell Thomas had ever experienced. He didn't seem to be able to stop chittering.

Something deep within Thomas snapped. He growled, a rumble from deep in his chest, completely involuntarily. Without hesitating, he grabbed the omega's hips and pulled him towards him, intent on claiming what was his.

* * *

The moment Alex wakes up, he knows that listening to Thomas had been a mistake. One pill just isn't enough to keep the heat at bay. Instead of sleepy, he's awake and painfully horny.

He whines, a sound he doesn't mean to make, frantic with the need for relief. He hasn't had a heat this bad in over a decade, not since moving to the United States when he was 17; suppressants were expensive in Nevis when he was a kid.

He looks at his Alpha, laying beside him, then down at himself. Alpha is almost naked, while he's fully clothed. That isn't right. Careful not to wake Alpha, he strips off his sweatshirt, his pyjama pants, and finally his boxer briefs, then lays down beside Alpha completely nude. But that's not right, either. Slowly, oh so slowly, he edges Alpha's boxers off, until Alpha is just as naked as he is.

All that gorgeous skin. He whines again, deep in his throat, and snuggles as close to Alpha as he can. But he's too restless to lay down quietly. Instead, he fidgets, rubs himself against Alpha, trying to find a position that's comfortable enough for him to still, and failing miserably.

All that movement rouses Alpha. He should be contrite at waking the man, but he can't seem to find it within himself. “Alpha,” he says instead, delighted, eager, needy. Immediately, he falls back into a complete submissive display, exposing himself completely to Alpha's eyes and hands and-

He is seized by the hips and pulled into Alpha's lap. Back to chest, ass to thighs, his entire body from the neck down is pressed against Alpha's. Alpha wraps his arms around him, enveloping him, possessing him, and it's the greatest thing that has ever happened to him.

Alpha's hands snake around his body to tweak at his left nipple, making it red and erect. He eagerly presses his chest into Alpha's palm – he can't help it – but Alpha just uses his other arm to hold him back. Then that clever hand moves on to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, and he can't help but grind back into Alpha's lap.

Those hands roam his body, pausing a moment to press into his stomach. It clears through the fog of arousal a bit – he doesn't like his stomach. Thomas makes him eat at mealtimes, even when he isn't hungry, and now he has a bit of a pudge around his middle and his ribs barely even show anymore. Thomas insists he likes it. Alex doesn't. It makes him concerned that he's getting fat, that he won't be as attractive, that Thomas won't like-

Then that clever hand is moving on, ghosting fingernails down his abdomen, rounding his cock, pressing into and caressing his stones, then-

Clever, clever hand. Fingers wrap around his cock, surround the swollen red skin, grip the shaft and stroke it, once, twice …

He comes on the third stroke with a cry, only then realizing that he's been moaning and chittering and begging this entire time. Noisy, noisy omega. Alpha's mouth is at his throat, kissing on his neck.

He expects Alpha to let go of his dick, to flip him over so that Alpha can plunge himself into him, but instead Alpha just starts pumping the hand around his shaft again. He wails at the overstimulation, begs him to stop and to keep going, sobbing at how much it hurts but how good it feels, wanting to push Alpha's hand away but wanting him to keep going too, until he's suddenly hard, and then he's coming again with a howl of pleasure and pain.

Alpha lets the poor, abused dick alone. Instead, fingers are suddenly inside of him, testing, pressing, caressing. They hit his prostrate, and just like that he's hard again.

His body is telling him that enough is enough. The clever hand with its clever fingers is nice, but what his body needs is a knot to fill him and quiet the way his skin crawls with need. He whines, a throaty sound, begging Alpha to give him what he needs. Alpha twists him around, so that he's straddling his lap, face to face, and he has no time to get used to this new position before Alpha lines them up and plunges him down onto his dick. Alpha is completely inside of him before he even feels the breech.

He moans, pleased with the way his Alpha fills him up. “Alpha,” he cries, anxious and desperate and needy and  _glad_ . Alpha responds by bending over to dig his teeth into his shoulder, as his hands on his thighs lift him up and drops him back down onto Alpha's dick. Again, and again, he's bouncing on Alpha's lap, being raised off the cock only to feel it skewer him again. He's babbling, complete nonsense, praise for his Alpha and entreaties that he not stop.

Then Alpha comes inside him, filling him with his seed, and he sobs with ecstasy as he feels that wonderful, wonderful knot swelling to permeate every part of his being. Wave after wave of sheer euphoria washes over him, and it's all he can do to sink into his Alpha's arms in indescribable bliss.

* * *

Thomas holds Alex close, cuddling and soothing omega as he shudders in what appears to be sheer pleasure. A small part of his brain worries at the almost violent way omega shivers in his arms, but he's too filled with pride to pay it much notice. In the entire history of the species, has there ever been a more beautiful omega than the one currently riding his knot? Omega is beautiful, and strong, and courageous, and he deserves only the best. Is there any other Alpha capable of caring for omega the way he does?

An odd noise, a shrill beeping, comes from omega's phone. For a moment, just a moment, Thomas punches through the fog enough to remember that the alarm is important. But omega moans, and does it matter what noises omega's toys make? What matters is that omega is his, and his alone. He pulls omega closer to him.

Omega finally stops shivering, and sinks into his arms with a sigh of contentment. He holds omega, kissing and nipping as speech is beyond him at the moment, and they wait for his knot to settle.

* * *

It took significantly longer than expected. Thomas had read that Alphas would usually stay knotted longer than normal when in the presence of an omega in heat – a mechanism designed to keep the omega close by and unable to proposition a rival while the Alpha recovered enough to mate again – so the knot hanging around wasn't too much of a surprise. What  _was_ a surprise was just  _how much_ longer – Alex was practically asleep when his knot finally relaxed a full forty minutes later.

Sometime during that forty minutes, Alex's phone alarm went off again, as it was designed to do. Alex dove towards the nightstand, causing Thomas to grunt in pain as a particularly sensitive part of his anatomy was dragged along. The omega smiled a sheepish apology as he washed down the pill with his water bottle. Still disgruntled with their knotting ritual being disrupted, Thomas pulled the omega back into his arms, feeling him becoming pliant and sleepy again in the Alpha's embrace.

That sleepy bliss lasted another twenty minutes or so after the knot deflated, before Alex was mewling to be filled again. Once sniff of the omega's arousal mixed with the heady scent of heat, and Thomas found his Alpha agreeing with Alex's suggestion. The omega was too far gone even to babble his usual nonsense as Thomas knotted him.

And again. The knots deflated sooner and sooner, but the sleepy period afterward lengthened, as they settled into the heat.

After the fourth knot went down, Thomas was at war. His body felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to his bones, but one sniff of the sweet smelling omega beside him had his Alpha hard and ready to go again. His instincts screamed at him to claim the omega, now, before another Alpha did. A growl rumbled deep within his chest at the idea. Another Alpha with _his_ omega? Another Alpha, holding omega down, making omega submit to horrible things, filling omega with his seed and-

Startled, he leaned down to scent Alex's neck gland. The omega's heat was starting to build again. He would want Thomas to knot him again. He would want-

Something had to give. Something. There had to be a way-

Thomas' thoughts were interrupted by Alex's stomach growling. He looked up, startled, and ignored the embarrassed look on the omega's face to calculate. Neither man had eaten in almost five hours.

No wonder they were so tired. They were hungry, and probably dehydrated as well.

Alex shifted under him, and Thomas got a noseful of his scent again. He could go to the kitchen and bring them food, but then omega would be helpless. Another Alpha might sneak in and steal omega while Thomas wasn't around to defend him. If it was just him, he'd suffer through; but omega was hungry as well, and he had to provide for omega's needs. He shifted on the bed, unsure.

“You could always text Abraham to have him bring something up?” Alex's voice broke through his warring instincts.

“Right,” he responded, grabbing his own phone off his nightstand. It took a few seconds to remember how to use the thing, but he had sent the text and placed the phone back down soon enough. Then another wave of scent hit, and all thoughts of food were discarded in favor of pulling Alex into his lap and sucking at the skin around his scent gland. Omega put up some resistance, but he had spent the last month mapping every inch of his mate's skin. He knew exactly what to do and exactly where to do it. Omega was soon moaning on his lap, lost in the ecstasy of-

A knock on the door boomed through the bedroom like a cannon shot. A challenger had appeared, another Alpha had dared to come to try and steal his omega. Immediately, he was in a full threat display – impressive Alpha teeth bared, eyes slitted, pupils blown, nostrils flared, shoulders back to make him look as big as possible. He pushed omega behind him, putting himself between omega and the door. Omega pawed at his back and muttered in fear, but there was nothing to worry about. He would handle this upstart, this insignificant wannabe with delusions of grandeur who dared try and take what was his, and then he would soothe omega, take him in his arms and calm his fears-

Omega was muttering again, saying something that he didn't understand. He heard the word “beta” again and again, and the word should mean something, should be important. It seemed important to omega. He'd try and parse it out once he was finished with the challenger.

Omega sighed and started playing with his light toy, of all things. He didn't understand why that would be important at a time like this, but then the door was opening and he could only focus on the Alpha coming to take what was his.

Except it wasn't an Alpha. The smell hit him almost immediately, made him whine in confusion. The intruder wasn't an Alpha but a beta, not a threat, not a rival, not a concern. He paused, unsure.

Omega wrapped the duvet around his hips. “See? It's just Abraham,” he was saying. “It's okay, he's just here to get us some food. Aren't you hungry?”

“Beta,” he muttered, half a statement and half a question, as that was the important part of what was going on at the moment, and he wanted to make sure.

“That's right, Abraham's a beta. He's not here to threaten your territory. For fuck's sake, I had heard that Alphas could get territorial when around an omega in heat, but this is ridiculous!”

A face appeared from behind the door. Thomas growled again, low, but the scents wafting from the open door were reassuringly free of Alpha musk. “May I come in?” the face asked.

“Yeah, just don't make any sudden moves,” omega replied. “Or on your own head be it.”

“That bad?” the face – Abraham – asked, bringing in a tray of food while pointedly not looking at the two men on the bed. His nostrils flaring briefly was the only indication he ever gave that this wasn't just a normal afternoon.

“Let's just say that I've seen a side of Thomas I've never seen before,” Alex replied, sounding almost amused.

The wonderful smells coming from the tray finally pulled Thomas free of the lingering fog of hormones. It contained two giant bowls of cheeseburger macaroni, carbs and protein in quantity. Along with the pasta came a beautiful salad and a bottle of wine for now, and enough Gatorade to drown a horse in for later.

“I'll be back to pick the dishes up later,” Abraham said, then backed out of the room.

Thomas couldn't care less. He only waited until the door closed behind the man before grabbing a bowl and handing it to Alex. He waited a moment, watching his omega take a few bites of pasta, before digging into his own bowl.

* * *

They settle into a rhythm. Fuck like rabbits during the peaks of Alex's heat, eat and sleep and use the bathroom during the quiet moments. They even managed to get a few hours of work in here and there, sitting side by side with their respective laptops.

Alex could always tell when his heat was about to intensify when Thomas started getting possessive and paranoid. The Alpha's instincts were telling him to fight off any rivals and secure exclusive access to the omega before he was ready to mate.

They settled into a rhythm with eating, as well. Food was served by one member of Thomas' staff or another every four hours or so, usually things that were soft and palatable at room temperature. Dishes were retrieved when the next meal was delivered.

At first, the staff member would bring the tray into the room and place it on the end table at first. Then Milo came in during one of Alex's peaks, while they were resting. Alex, his mind heat-fried, chirruped in greeting and presented himself to the beta. Milo had just enough time to see entirely more of his employer's mate than he really wanted to, before said employer attempted to claw his face off.

After that, Milo got a raise and some time off, and whoever was delivering the food would open the door, slide the tray inside, and make a dignified retreat.

* * *

Eventually, those peaks were farther and farther apart. Eventually, Thomas wouldn't get possessive and paranoid so much as mistrusting. Eventually, Alex didn't smell irresistible so much as just pleasant.

When both men awoke after having slept a solid eleven hours through, they realized that it was over.

* * *

Alex settled into the chair with a sigh, and surveyed the top of his desk. The piles of paper in his inbox weren't nearly as high as he would have expected, and he had a feeling that his interns were responsible. His bright, amazing interns. Alphas and betas all, none of them hesitated even slightly in working for an omega; in fact, Davis had even said that interning for an omega had opened their eyes to a new world of possibilities. They kept him going, kept him caffeinated, kept him fed most days, and kept him feeling young. They were welcome back to the Treasury Department to work full time after they graduated, every single one of them. He hesitated only a moment before booting up his laptop and navigating to a fruit bouquet site. After making sure that Nancy's bouquet didn't have strawberries – which she was allergic to – and Davis' contained extra pineapple – which they were especially fond of – he ordered the bouquets to be delivered the next day, and got to work on the papers that remained in his inbox.

Other than the occasional visitor, things went back to normal almost instantly. But the visitors were rather odd. Mostly other people's interns, they would pause at his open office door, blink owlishly at him a few times, before scampering off.

The first time it happened, he sighed in annoyance. Some people just didn't screen interns like they should.  _His_ interns were hard-working go-getters, but  _other people's_ interns could be flighty, timid creatures.

By the sixth time, he was starting to get paranoid.

“Candace!” he called the seventh intern in to his office. Candace came in, a little hesitant, to stand in front of his desk. “Why have interns been coming by my office all day?”

“Because of the rumors, sir,” Candace – a ditsy, giggly, beautiful black girl – answered him.

He sighed. “What rumors?” He apparently was going to have to drag it out of her.

“The rumors that you were so exhausted and malnourished that when you went into your heat, you slipped into a coma and would possibly die, sir.”

That was … quite a rumor. “So you had to check for yourself,” he muttered.

“Yes, sir,” she answered brightly.

This had to be from his interns, he thought as he said his goodbyes and dismissed Candace. Those conniving little sneaks. He had half a mind to-

Unlocking his laptop, he navigated quickly to the fruit bouquet site and clicked to change his order. He then changed it so that each bouquet would be sent to the wrong person, then added a postscript at the end of each card apologizing for any errors that his exhausted, malnourished brain may have made.

Satisfied, he clicked the button to approve the changes, and went back to his pile of paperwork.

* * *

During future heats, they would streamline the process – both together and with the staff – so well that those heats regularly went by without any problems. Samuel was alerted a week before the next heat was scheduled to begin, and took to parking his car close to the Treasury Building for that week so that he could be there at a moment's notice. The kitchen staff stocked up on things like oatmeal and fruit and protein bars, and joked when Thomas couldn't hear about converting one of the guest rooms into a “heat room”, complete with a feeding slot on the door. Abraham said nothing, but stocked up on first aid supplies, especially things like peroxide and bandages that were good for scratches and bites, as well as suppressants and a morning-after kit, just in case.

Alex took his suppressants two at a time. Thomas never policed his dosages again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this took entirely too long to write. Real life got in the way a few times, as did writer's block. I'm glad to have finally finished it, though!
> 
> This took a few twists and turns that not even I was expecting, so I hope everyone enjoyed those. I tried to make it an actual story, with a plot and everything, not just an "excuse to fuck each other's brains out" fic.
> 
> Like "That Dreamlike Candlelight", nobody except for Thomas, Alex, Washington, and Lafayette are based on real people. Samuel, Abraham, Milo, Davis, Nancy, Candace, and anybody else that I've forgotten, are all just random names I picked out as needed, the first name I could think of. Samuel and Abraham are characters from "That Dreamlike Candlelight"; everybody else was made up on the spot. You can close out those Wiki pages and _Turn: Washington's Spies_ fansites now.
> 
> I would also be remiss if I didn't at least mention that taking the recommended dosage for any and all medicines is the smart thing to do. Unless specifically recommended by a doctor, intentionally taking more than the recommended dosage of any drugs -- even the over-the-counter variety -- can be really dangerous. The only reason Alex takes more is because he knows that those dosages are politically- y'know what, nevermind; Alex is totally the type to chug ibuprofen by the handful. And he'll be explaining to his doctor in a few decades why the lining of his stomach is so badly damaged because of it. Don't be like Alex. In that, or in pretty much everything else. It is not a good idea to model your life after Alexander Hamilton. The dude was absolutely brilliant, but a complete mess of a human being.
> 
> Like always, give me love in the comments!


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